Monstrous Regiment

“Er… Reg?” said Buggy.

“How hard can it be, sir, to move with the times? Now take me, for example. One day I woke up dead. Did I—”

“Reg!” Vimes warned as Morag’s head bobbed back and forth.

“—take it lying down? No! And I didn’t—”

“Reg, be careful! She’s just had two of your fingers off!”

“What? Oh.” Reg held up a denuded hand and stared at it. “Oh, now, will you look at that?” He peered down at the floor, with a hope that was quickly dashed. “Blast. Any chance we can make her throw up?”

“Only by sticking your remaining fingers down her throat, Reg. Sorry. Buggy, do the best you can, please. And you, Reg, go back downstairs and see if they’ve got any coffee, will you?”

“Oh dear,” murmured Shufti.

“It’s big,” said Tonker.

Blouse said nothing.

“Not seen it before, sir?” said Jackrum cheerfully, as they stared at the distant keep.

If there is a fairy-tale scale for castles, where the top end is occupied by those white, spire-encrusted castles with the blue pointy roofs, then Kneck Keep was low, black and clung to its outcrop like a storm cloud. A bed of the Kneck ran round it; along the peninsula on which it was built, the approach road was wide, and bereft of cover, and an ideal stroll for those who were tired of life. Blouse took all this in.

“Er, no, sergeant,” he said. “I’ve seen pictures, of course, but… they don’t do it justice.”

“Any of them books you read tell you what to do, sir?” said Jackrum. They were lying in some bushes half a mile away from the keep.

“Possibly, sergeant. In The Craft of War, Song Sung Lo said: to win without fighting is the greatest victory. The enemy wishes us to attack where he is strongest. Therefore, we will disappoint him. A way will present itself, sergeant.”

“Well, it’s never presented itself to me, and I’ve been here dozens of times,” said Jackrum, still gri

“I wonder how the Alliance got in?” said Blouse.

“Treachery, probably, sir. The world’s full of traitors. Or perhaps they discovered the secret entrance, sir. You know, sir? The one you’re sure is there. Or p’raps you’ve forgotten? It’s the sort of thing that can slip your mind when you’re busy, I expect.”

“We shall reco

“Right, sir, yes, we might as well do that, sir,” said Jackrum now, all gloating helpfulness. “Where would you like us to reco

“There must be a secret entrance, sergeant. No one would build a place like that with only one entrance. Agreed?”

“Yessir. Only, perhaps they kept it a secret, sir. Only trying to help, sir.”

They turned at the sound of urgent praying. Wazzer had fallen to her knees, hands clasped together. The rest of the squad edged away slowly. Piety is a wonderful thing.

“What is he doing, sergeant?” said Blouse.

“Praying, sir,” said Jackrum.

“I’ve noticed he does it a lot. Is that, er, within regulations, sergeant?” the lieutenant whispered.

“Always a difficult one, sir, that one,” said Jackrum. “I have, myself, prayed many times on the field of battle. Many times have I said the Soldier’s Prayer, sir, and I don’t mind admitting it.”

“Er… I don’t think I know that one,” said Blouse.

“Oh, I reckon the words’ll come to you soon enough, sir, once you’re up against the foe. Gen’rally, though, they’re on the lines of ‘O god, let me kill this bastard before he kills me’.” Jackrum gri

“Yes, sergeant, but where would we be if we all prayed all the time?” said the lieutenant.

“In heaven, sir, sitting at Nuggan’s right hand,” said Jackrum promptly. “That’s what I was taught as a little nipper, sir. Of course, it’d be a bit crowded, so it’s just as well we don’t.”

At which point, Wazzer stopped praying and stood up, brushing dust off her knees. She gave the squad her bright, worrying smile. “The Duchess will guide our steps,” she said.

“Oh. Good,” said Blouse weakly.

“She will show us the way.”

“Wonderful. Er… did she mention a map reference at all?” said the lieutenant.

“She will give us eyes that we might see.”

“Ah? Good. Well, jolly good,” said Blouse. “I definitely feel a lot better for knowing that. Don’t you, sergeant?”

“Yessir,” said Jackrum. “’cos before this, sir, we didn’t have a prayer.”

They scouted in threes, while the rest of the squad lay up in a deep hollow among the bushes. There were enemy patrols, but it’s not hard to avoid half a dozen men who stick to the tracks and aren’t being careful not to make a noise. The troops were Zlobenian, and acted as though they owned the place.

For some reason Polly ended up patrolling with Maladict and Wazzer or, to put it another way, a vampire on the edge and a girl who was possibly so far over it that she’d found a new edge out beyond the horizon. She was changing every day, that was a fact. On the day they’d all joined up, a lifetime ago, she’d been this shivering little waif who flinched at shadows. Now, sometimes, she seemed taller, full of some ethereal certainty, and shadows fled before her. Well, not in actual fact, Polly would admit. But she walked as if they should.

And then there had been the Miracle of the Turkey. That was hard to explain.

The three of them had been moving along the cliffs. They’d circled a couple of Zlobenian lookout posts, forewarned by the smell of cooking-fires but, alas, not by the smell of any coffee. Maladict seemed to be mostly in control, except for a tendency to mutter to himself in letters and numbers, but Polly had stopped that by threatening to hit him with a stick the very next time he did it.

They’d reached a cliff edge that gave yet another view of the Keep, and once again Polly raised the telescope and sca

“Look down at the river,” said Wazzer.

The circle of view blurred upwards as Polly shifted the scope; when it stopped moving she saw whiteness. She had to lower the instrument to see what she’d been looking at.

“Oh my,” she said.

“Makes sense, though,” said Maladict. “And there’s a path all along the river, see? There’s a couple more women on it.”

“Tiny gateway, though,” said Polly. “And it’d be so easy to search people for weapons.”

“Soldiers couldn’t get through, them,” said the vampire.

“We could,” said Polly. “And we’re soldiers. Aren’t we?”

There was a pause before Maladict said: “Soldiers need weapons. Swords and crossbows get noticed.”

“There will be weapons inside,” said Wazzer. “the Duchess has told me. The castle is full of weapons.”

“Did she tell you how to make the enemy let go of them?” said Maladict.

“All right, all right,” said Polly quickly. “We ought to tell the rupert as soon as possible, okay? Let’s get back!”

“Hold on, I’m the corporal,” said Maladict.

“Well?” said Polly. “And?”

“Let’s get back?” said Maladict.

“Good idea.”

She should have listened to the birdsong, she realized later. The shrill calls in the distance would have told her the news, if only she’d been calm enough to listen.